


i fell in love with you before the second show

by throwupsparkles



Series: All I want [2]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Danger Days Era, Infidelity, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Touring, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25777846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwupsparkles/pseuds/throwupsparkles
Summary: Time is fucking stupid anyway and it tangles in his head so often. He’ll blink and see Gerard with his stupid teal roots and that god awful striped scarf, then look back and he’s got his hands full with a bleached blonde, grinding against him with nothing but their Black Parade jackets on because that was always a fantasy for Gerard.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Series: All I want [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870072
Comments: 34
Kudos: 160





	i fell in love with you before the second show

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't supposed to be a series, but then became one?

It’s not that Frank had forgotten what a sap Gerard was.

It’s just that Frank thought that Gerard would have lost those sentimental thoughts towards him after all these years. Which is fucking stupid when Frank really thinks about it. Gerard is the most sentimental motherfucker he’s ever met. And he loves him for it. 

He almost doesn’t notice at first. He’s switching over his pedals and tuning his guitar for the second half of the show. Gerard usually takes a little break at this point, they’re not kids anymore and even Gerard is starting to feel his age. He’s just listening to Ray play a few notes, echoing the ones that Frank’s playing to set up for the next song. Then he hears it. 

_“Long ago and, oh, so far away…”_

“S’the last time,” Frank had gasped earlier that day.

“You say that every time,” Gerard murmured in reply, taking Frank’s cock back in his mouth. 

Frank gripped the sheets and stared at the ceiling, begging it for forgiveness because he was so fucking weak. He will always be weak when it comes to Gerard. And maybe that’s why he always lets him call the shots. Because if it was up to Frank, they would be hopping on a plane to fucking Antarctica or something to live among the penguins and fuck in igloos. 

“You say the strangest things when I blow you,” Gerard grinned, pressing kisses along his tattoos on his lower stomach. 

Frank didn’t even give a fuck that he should be embarrassed. It’s Gerard. Frank’s dream of fucking in front of penguins doesn’t even hold a candle to some of the shit that Gerard says. 

Frank leaned up on his elbows and raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You started talking about _Jennifer’s Body_ and how it defies the gender stereotypes of the horror genre--”

“I was just trying not to come so quick,” Gerard said with a smirk, licking the length of Frank’s cock.

Frank exhaled loudly. “Ugh, _fuck_ me.”

“Yeah?” Gerard asked with a hopeful smile. 

Frank rolled his eyes and tugged on Gerard’s red hair to pull him up to him. “Like you don’t know,” Frank murmured, kissing him. 

“It’s polite to ask,” Gerard smiled, licking his teeth. 

Frank flipped them over so that Gerard was on his back. Gerard grinned, delighted at the change of position, and ran his hands over Frank’s ass before fumbling among the blankets to find the bottle of lube that he had thrown there when they stumbled into the hotel room. “Fuck, where...oh, here it is,” Gerard said and Frank shuttered at the snap of the cap opening. 

He moaned at the two slick fingers pushing up into Frank, and he rocked his hips down. Gerard leaned up to kiss Frank’s eyebrow and whispered, “You’re so beautiful like this, Frankie.”

Frank doesn’t think he will ever get used to being praised by Gerard. It always makes his blood run hot and thick like lava, burning it’s way through his body and making him delirious with it. He fucking _loves_ the sweet whispers Gerard presses against his ear and it almost makes up for all the hurt that they’ve put themselves through. It almost erases the ghosted memory of Gerard’s hands harming him instead of loving him. Almost makes that night all those years ago melt away under Gerard’s soft, “so pretty” and “love you” and “never leave you.”

“Don’t say that,” Frank whimpered when he processed the last one. 

Gerard’s hand stilled and Frank whined, trying to push down against his fingers, but Gerard held him steady with his other hand on his hip. 

“Look at me,” Gerard said. 

Frank stared defiantly at Gerard’s chest and Gerard removed his fingers, sighing. “Why do you always do this?”

Frank got off Gerard and sat on the edge of the bed. “Me? You’re the one who--”

“It’s fucking…” Gerard started, then he stopped and shook his head, getting out of the bed and starting to get dressed. 

“Where are you going?” Frank demanded. 

“It’s not fun fucking you when you look like a kicked dog,” Gerard said, picking his wedding band off the nightstand and sliding it back on his finger.

He gave Frank another look--something mixed in too many hurtful emotions that Frank was tired of decoding--and then left.

_“I fell in love with you before the second show…”_

Frank is aware of Mikey moving closer to him, almost like he’s creating a barrier between him and Gerard. And he gets it, he’s tired of his brother and best friend hurting each other. He doesn’t know how to tell Mikey that this is just how he and Gerard work, how it’s probably not going to change until this all goes up in flames. 

_“Your guitar, it sounds so sweet and clear…”_

“It’ll be like a code,” Gerard had whispered to him years ago in an empty studio after the rest of the guys had gone home for the night. 

Frank curled the blanket more under his ass so the carpet would stop giving him rug burn. “No more watching _Moulin Rouge_ for you,” Frank giggled. 

They had just recorded “Cancer” for the album that day and Gerard picked “Superstar” to warm up to, winking at Frank. It had always been a running joke with them when Gerard heard Frank humming the song one night in the shower. Had teased him then soothed over his wounded ego with soft kisses and “you can still be punk and like The Carpenters.”

Gerard rolled his eyes and leaned up on his elbow. “No I mean it,” he said. 

Frank ran his fingers over Gerard’s dampened bleached hair, his flushed cheeks glowing even redder against it’s paleness. “I know you do.”

Gerard grinned and kissed the tip of his nose, his hand coming up to cup his jaw. “So whenever you hear it, or I hear it, we’ll just think of each other and it’ll be all ok, right? Like even years down the line if this album doesn’t--”

“Gerard--”

“--No listen to me,” Gerard whispered, and Frank knew better than to try and soothe his erratic train of thought when he got going, “If this album tanks and we become has-beens, and you go off and marry Jamia and have beautiful babies--”

“ _Gerard_ \--”

“Just like, if you hear it in the supermarket or something when you’re shopping for organic mashed peas or whatever, you’ll think of me, ok?” Gerard whispered, looking at Frank with wide eyes. Childish almost, with abandoned hope and fear of something that would never happen. “Can you do that for me, Frankie?”

Frank frowned and pulled Gerard to him, smothering any other crazy thought he was going to say with a feverish kiss. And Gerard kissed just as frantically. “I promise, you crazy fucker,” Frank breathed against Gerard’s swollen lips, “How could I ever not think of you?”

Frank wonders how Gerard knew back then. How the fuck did he know that they would crumble down to nothing but tangled limbs in hotel rooms with forgotten vows sitting on the nightstand?

Frank can’t help but walk over to Gerard, not meeting Mikey’s eyes as he hugs his guitar and moves to him. Gerard will always have this hold on him, will always be a magnet that draws him closer even if his mind isn’t along for the ride. Even though he knows this is bad, this will never work, they’re being horrible people, hurting so many--he can’t fucking help it. 

_“But you’re not really here, it’s just the radio…”_

Leave it to Gerard to pick the saddest fucking song for them. Something that would always crush Frank when he heard it. And that fucker, of _course_ he did hear it in the supermarket one day when he was in Jersey and Gerard was living with his new wife in LA. And he had sat down next to the display of Velveeta Shells and Cheese and fucking sobbed. 

“I hate you,” he had said when he got in his car and called Gerard. 

“I know,” Gerard whispered. 

And then they stayed on the phone, listening to Frank cry and Gerard’s heart break. 

_“Don’t you remember, you told me you loved me baby?”_

Frank watches Gerard’s eyes flutter open and stare at the drum in front of him, his face twisted up like he’s reliving the same moments that Frank is. His stare is a thousand yards, but then he blinks and it’s like he’s remembered where he is. And he looks over at Frank and stands up. 

Frank mouths, “Fuck you,” but he’s grinning and Gerard smiles back, winks, then walks towards the front of the stage and they jump into “Famous Last Words”. 

Later, Frank pulls the forgotten hotel key out of his pocket and pulls Gerard back into the room they had been in earlier that day. As soon as the door shuts, Gerard is all over him. 

“Sorry,” Gerard whispers, “I’m so sorry.”

Frank doesn’t answer him, he’s not sure if he’d be lying if he tells him it’s ok, so he just kisses him back and pulls his shirt off. He licks across his collarbone and then bites down, grinning at Gerard’s “ _oh”_ and then he’s unbuckling his belt. 

It’s a mess of hands overlapping hands and tugging at clothing, fabric slipping across fingertips and pooling at the floor by their feet. Gerard slips off Frank’s wedding band and puts it on the nightstand along with his and then he’s pushing him back onto the bed, wasting no time to crawl on top of him. The bottle of lube is still nestled among the blankets and Gerard coats his fingers quickly before getting them back to where they were earlier this afternoon. 

Frank lets out a low groan when Gerard pushes his fingers in, hooking them and twisting. Frank could lay here for hours with Gerard finger fucking him, and sometimes when they’re in the right mindset Gerard will take his time bringing Frank to the brink of his orgasm, only to pull him back and then work him towards it again, edging him until Frank is sobbing and pleading. 

It’s not one of those nights though, they’re too emotional for that and Frank’s pretty sure he’d break down if Gerard did that to him. Instead he slides another finger in him and watches Frank rock back against his fingers and Frank tries to keep his eyes open, tries to watch the way Gerard stares at his fingers disappearing in Frank with wonder and a small, proud smile. 

Fuck, Gerard looks so beautiful when he lets himself be in love with Frank. 

“I’m ready, come on,” Frank whines when Gerard brushes against the bundle of nerves that lights a white hot fire in his body and courses through his veins, igniting all his cells and waking them up to come greet Gerard with open arms. “Fuck, baby, baby.”

Gerard's fingers slip out and before Frank even has a chance to complain, Gerard thrusts into him, buried in him in one go. It’s fucking perfect, he needs this fast and hard. He doesn’t want time to break down, doesn’t want the slowness tonight so that he can remember how much it fucking hurts to love this man. 

Gerard pauses to hook Frank’s leg into the crook of his arm and he lifts then bends him so that he’s folded in on himself and Gerard can fuck him deeper. He’s up on his knees, gripping the headboard behind them to get the leverage and then Frank loses all sense of the room. He doesn’t even think he’s still on the planet, just knows that Gerard is here with him. Now. Right now is all that matters. Time is fucking stupid anyway and it tangles in his head so often. He’ll blink and see Gerard with his stupid teal roots and that god awful striped scarf, then look back and he’s got his hands full with a bleached blonde, grinding against him with nothing but their Black Parade jackets on because that was always a fantasy for Gerard. 

There’s always this point when he’s having sex with Gerard where he thinks he’s going to shatter into a million of pieces that he’ll never be able to put back together. This point of it being _too_ much and he’s crying because he can’t help it and he doesn’t know when they’ve gotten so emotional during sex, but it fucking hurts and it’s fucking wonderful, beautiful, and everything that Frank’s always known to be good. It gets to be too much to the point he’s vibrating out of his skin and he’s begging, “Gee, Gee, Gee,” and Gerard will slow them down and wrap himself around Frank and hold him tight, keeping him together. 

“Love you, baby,” Gerard whispers, kissing his temple, smoothing his hair back and kissing his forehead too. 

“Don’t--” Frank whimpers, but then Gerard thrusts harder into him, pins him down to the bed and it’s just as good as being held. He’s making him stay in the moment tonight, won’t let him drift off into a fantasy where this is theirs to have and not something they have to take. 

“Look at me,” Gerard repeats his order from earlier and this time Frank listens because he literally can’t look anywhere else. He can’t, can’t, can’t.

Gerard’s eyes trace over his face, taking in how he’s doing and then he stills and rests his forehead against Franks. Frank rocks his hips against Gerard and whines. Gerard smiles softly and pulls out. Frank whimpers and Gerard shushes him with a kiss then tugs on his hips, trying to turn him over. “Hands and knees, Frankie,” he says softly. 

Frank moves quickly, just wanting Gerard to get back to the fucking him part and Gerard doesn’t make him wait. Frank cries out when Gerard grips his hips and shoves back inside him, fucking hard and pulling his hips back against him in time. Fast, hard, dirty and it’s everything that Frank wants. He knows he’s shouting, the volume muffled against the mattress and his shoulders are screaming at the strained position, so he lets himself crumple forward. Gerard doesn’t release his hips or slow his punishing pace. 

And then his thrust grow more erratic and Frank moans, “Come in me,” because he’s a fucking porn star now apparently. 

Gerard chuckles softly and grits, “Planning on it.”

Frank’s close too, and he knows that feeling Gerard pulse in him will be enough to send him over the edge, but Gerard wraps his hand around the base of Frank’s cock and squeezes hard. Frank’s about to shout in protest when he feels Gerard start to pull out, but then he moans when he’s only got the tip of his cock left in Frank, bowing forward and crying out against Frank’s spine. 

“Fuck,” Gerard breathes and Frank tries to let Gerard bask in his afterglow, but he’s painfully hard and he can’t help the small whimper that escapes his throat when Gerard’s hold around his cock relaxes. 

Gerard moves behind him and lifts his hips back up in the air. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to his tailbone, “I didn’t forget about you.”

Frank’s too out of his mind with being so close, that he doesn’t realize what Gerard is doing until he feels Gerard press a kiss to his opening, almost chaste if it had been on the lips. Gerard all but purrs then he’s licking his way in. Frank feels so open, but he still shudders around Gerard’s tongue. Shudders when he thinks what Gerard is lapping out of him and the thought alone makes him groan. 

“Good?” Gerard whispers, sounding a bit too proud of himself. 

“Fuck you,” Frank groans, pushing his ass back against Gerard’s mouth.

Gerard chuckles and wraps his hand around Frank’s cock and strokes up as he presses his tongue back in him, swirling in a slow circle and Frank starts thinking about penguins and igloos again, thinks about the cold so he can prolong ending this because, fuck, fuck, this is so fucking good. 

Frank’s rocking back and forth, fucking Gerard’s hand and pressing back against his tongue and he’s blindsided by the orgasm that hits him. There’s no warning, he’s just crying out and then falling into the sticky sheets and shaking. Gerard gathers him in his arms and strokes his trembling limbs, kisses his shoulder blade and down his spine. “So good, Frankie, you’re so fucking good.”

When Frank’s got his breathing back to normal, he turns in Gerard’s arms and looks up at him and says, “We should fight more often.”

Gerard’s brows furrow. “I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“Next time I’ll eat my come out your ass, then you can decide.”

Gerard laughs and starts to crawl out of bed, but Frank grabs his arm. “Where are you going?”

Gerard turns back to him and kisses his forehead. “Just the bathroom,” he assures him gently, then gets up when Frank’s hold slackens. 

He knows he’s being clingy, but it’s hard not to be when he’s watching the tour dates tick away. He’s not sure if this is something that’s only going to exist on this tour or if they’ll work something out for after...and Frank glances at his wedding band and feels like a fucking asshole. 

He sits up and wraps his arms around his knees. 

Gerard comes out of the bathroom and raises his eyebrow at him. “What?”

Frank lets his eyes wander up and down Gerard’s body, a smile tugging at his lips when Gerard catches Frank’s eye and he smirks. Gerard shakes his head before climbing back in bed, pulling the blankets over them. He pushes Frank’s hair out of his eyes. “It’s getting so long."

“Is that bad?”

Gerard hums and shakes his head. “I like it.”

Frank reaches out to trace the collarbone that’s protruding more than it used to, and he knows that there’s another conversation they’re going to have to have soon. He’s picking his battles tonight though, so he whispers, “I need it to hurt to leave me.”

“What makes you think it doesn’t?” Gerard asks softly.

“You do it so often.”

“Frank--”

“No, you did this afternoon and--”

“--small fight--”

“Nothing is small with us,” Frank says, “Because this, this time we have is small. Small enough that it makes everything else big.”

Gerard tangles his fingers in Frank’s hair and pulls back so that Frank has to look at him. “It hurts to leave you. Every time I do, it feels like I’m leaving part of myself with you.”

“Then why doesn’t it feel like I have you?” 

Gerard’s eyes dim and Frank hates that he does that to Gerard, “You have all of me.”

Frank shakes his head. “Not in the ways that count.”

Gerard turns and lays back against the pillows, staring lifelessly at the ceiling. “I know what you want me to say, but I’m not going to just say it to make you happy.”

“You don’t want to leave her.”

Gerard doesn’t say anything. 

“You’re cheating on her, you know,” Frank says, “you have to take off your wedding ring before you fuck me.”

Gerard looks back at him and his eyes are bright with anger this time. Good. 

“You don’t think...I fucking know that, you _asshole_ ,” he bites, “You’re not a fucking saint either, you--”

“Would sign the divorce papers right now if you told me to,” Frank finishes for him. 

Gerard stares at him, the anger still bouncing behind his eyes and then he crumbles, chest deflates and he all but curls in on himself. “Oh, Frank.”

“Don’t do that,” Frank whispers, “Don’t you dare talk to me like--”

“Your babies,” Gerard says.

“Will still have a dad,” Frank says, “Fuck, you think they’d be the first kids with divorced parents?”

“Not fair, Frankie,” Gerard says, sitting up, “This isn’t fair, you can’t put this on me like this.”

“Like what?” Frank demands, “You act like this is all new to you. What the fuck did you think was going to happen when you kept pushing me into closets or pulling me into hotel rooms?”

“You weren’t exactly dragging your feet--”

“Exactly!” Frank shouts, “Because this is what I want. I want you, to really have you and--”

“Frank,” Gerard says, in a tone with finality but Frank is just gearing up. 

He moves to straddle Gerard and pulls his hands in his. “Close your eyes for me.”

Gerard looks up at him skeptically and Frank rolls his eyes, “Do it, fucker.”

Gerard huffs a laugh, but closes his eyes. 

“I want you to imagine you’re sitting in one of those stupid recliner chairs that old folks have,” Frank says and Gerard laughs, but he nods. Frank grins, “Alright, yeah. So picture you’re in your living room and you’re fucking old as dirt and watching a game show, like some trivia shit, right?”

“M’kay,” Gerard chuckles. 

“Right, so the idiot on the TV doesn’t know who directed _Blade Runner_ \--”

“Ridley Scott,” Gerard says automatically. 

Frank grins. “Yeah, I know, dipshit, but the guy on the TV doesn’t--”

“Who doesn’t--”

“Gerard, not the point,” Frank sighs. 

Gerard grins and presses his lips together. 

“So this guy is running out of time to guess the correct answer and you’re yelling at the tv, and you turn to the person in the recliner next to you and they’re laughing and shouting at the tv too.”

“Frank--”

“Who’s sitting next to you, Gee?” Frank whispers, “Because if it’s her, that’s fine. I’ll...I can take this for what it is and we’ll just leave it be--”

“Frank,” Gerard repeats, opening his eyes and they’re glassy with tears. 

Frank leans forward and he can smell the mouthwash that Gerard had to have used when he was in the bathroom earlier. “If it’s me, then you have to tell me. You have to stop being a fucking coward.”

Gerard stares up at him and Frank watches his bottom lip quiver, “Frank.”

“Please,” Frank breathes. 

Gerard just closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Frank waits and watches him open his eyes again.

And then he waits some more. 

*

They’re somewhere in the Midwest where all the roads look the same and he could have sworn that they just passed that gas station, but the bus pulls into the station and there’s a soft chorus of relief as everyone files out to stretch their legs and get snacks. 

Frank always goes for the slushies when they stop at a gas station, it makes him feel nineteen again and like he’s about to roll a joint. Mikey stands next to him and mixes all the slushies together like he’s a fucking five year old, and Frank loves the kid for it. And then when he turns to go look through their chips he hears the opening notes then, “Long ago and so far away…”

Across the aisles, Frank sees Gerard pause with his hand over the sour straws and he looks over at Frank. He stares at him and Frank thinks about time melting in his mind again. Thinks he sees Gerard with dark, graying hair and a fuller face again, but then he blinks and it’s sharp cheekbones and red hair falling into eyes that glitter back at him. 

Frank’s still waiting. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on my [tumblr](https://throwupsparkles.tumblr.com/).


End file.
